


Rescue Plan

by Eggling



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: the two/jamie is pre-relationship & could easily be ignored imo but as always it's there in my head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 17:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30058650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggling/pseuds/Eggling
Summary: “Jamie,” the Doctor said again, this time with more weary affection than exasperation. “You are one of the most infuriatingly stubborn people that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”“I’m hardly more stubborn than ye yourself.”The Doctor is locked in a cell. Jamie pays him a visit.
Relationships: Second Doctor/Jamie McCrimmon
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Rescue Plan

**Author's Note:**

> on [tumblr](https://the--highlanders.tumblr.com/post/645726630754598912/rescue-plan).

The corridor was dark, damp, filled with a choking, musty odour. Jamie eyed the mossy patches that lined the walls, following their climb all the way up to the waterline mark where the rough bricks began to curve inwards to form the vaulted ceiling. This was a floodplain, he remembered with a shudder, and the cells were tucked away right in the fortress’ basement. His eyes slid unbidden over to the windows, set high on the corridor wall but just meeting the outside at ground level. The boots and cloak hems of passers-by flickered into view every so often, blocking out the weak rays of light that flowed in past the bars. It was all too easy to imagine water rushing in there instead, filling the cells and drowning their occupants. It would not – must not come to that.

When he drew closer, he found that the cell bars were misshapen with rust, black paint peeled away to reveal cores the colour of dried blood. Briefly, he wondered if a good, strong kick would be enough to cave them in. But there was a guard on the prison’s exit, and he knew that if he tried anything he would be thrown into the next cell over. It was not the time for that just yet. Best to save his ideas for later. He knelt down in front of the cell instead, wincing as his knees squelched against the algae that clung stubbornly to the floor.

The Doctor still did not seem to have noticed his arrival, lying curled on the bed with his face turned towards the wall. “Doctor,” Jamie hissed. “ _Doctor_. Are ye awake?” A fine thing, he thought, to go to all this effort, only for the Doctor to sleep through his visit.

He twitched at the sound of Jamie’s voice, though, lifting his head from the pillow. “Mm. No, I’m not.” From the sluggish way he moved, Jamie guessed that he was lying, but he was alert quickly enough, rolling off the cot and hurrying over to kneel on the other side of the bars. The knees of his trousers were quickly soaked through by the moisture pooled in the mortar between the uneven cobblestones. He did not seem to notice, staring intently at Jamie. “What are you doing here?” he asked softly.

“Visiting you, of course,” Jamie retorted, unable to stop a touch of amusement creeping into his voice. “What else do ye think I’d be doin’ down here?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” The Doctor bobbed forward a little, like he had forgotten there were bars between himself and Jamie. “Sightseeing?”

Jamie laughed at that, really, properly laughed, the sound echoing off the stone and metal around them. Somehow, he could not remember the last time he had laughed so freely. It could only have been a few days ago, but it felt far longer, the painful hours stretching out behind him into an infinity. He laughed all the harder for the unfamiliarity of the feeling, and then the Doctor was laughing too, shaking with it and rubbing at the corner of one eye.

The banging of metal on metal quietened them, both looking towards the staircase leading out of the prison. “Quiet down in there!” a guard shouted from behind the door, and they glanced at each other, ducking their heads in equal embarrassment and mirth.

But the laughter had gone, and Jamie’s smile had fallen away into something smaller. He realised too late that he had lifted one hand as if to press it against the Doctor’s, and he wrapped his fingers around the cell bars instead, his cheeks stinging. “I’ve _missed_ ye.” The words came out far more heartfelt than he had intended. The Doctor nodded, tersely, awkwardly, and panic twisted its way through Jamie’s middle. Had he been too open, upset him somehow?”

But when the Doctor spoke, his voice was choked. “I miss you too,” he said quietly, then cleared his throat, adding “all of you. It’s terribly boring down here, you know.”

“Aye, I can imagine.”

“Are Ben and Polly alright?” The Doctor sat forwards, almost pressing his face between the bars. “I hope you three haven’t been getting yourselves into too much trouble.”

“No’ at all,” Jamie said, a smile twitching at his lips again. For the briefest of moments, he regretted lying to the Doctor – but then again, he thought, the Doctor’s definition of _too much trouble_ was very different from most people’s. Surely they had a bit of wiggle room there. And causing a few problems was hardly getting themselves into trouble, anyway. “Lilla let us stay with them.”

“Oh, good, good.”

“We need ye, though.” It must be hard, he thought, for the Doctor to be stuck down here, unable to do anything. He looked bored enough, alright. But it was hard for them, too, more or less free to do as they pleased, and yet as a loss for what to do next. Pestering security guards and helping Lilla sneak posters onto back alley walls in the dead of night was one thing, but he knew that if the Doctor was with them, they would have far grander plans. “We cannae do it alone.”

“Of course you can,” the Doctor protested. “You’re perfectly capable, all three of you.”

“For little things, aye, but – this is different.”

“It isn’t, really -”

“It is!” Ducking his head, Jamie glanced up the stairs towards the door. Maybe this time it would twitch open, and the scowling face of the guard would appear through the crack. It had taken a heavy bribe to convince the jailer to let him in to begin with. To be thrown out now over something so small would be pointlessly idiotic. But the door did not move, and he was not unceremoniously tossed onto the street. Satisfied that he was safe, he leant forwards until his nose was almost brushing the Doctor’s, his voice dropping. “We need ye. Your ideas, an’ all the things ye know.”

“Jamie -”

“But we’ve got one thing planned,” Jamie carried on. “I mean -” Should he be truthful about it? Perhaps he should. After all, if everything went as wrong as Ben and Polly thought it might, they would not like to be dragged into taking responsibility for his mess. “ _I’ve_ got one thing planned. I’m going tae get ye out of here.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened, and he glanced around them, like he was expecting guards to emerge from the walls. “You can’t!” he hissed. “It’s far too dangerous.”

“We need ye,” Jamie insisted. “An’ anyway, if it all goes wrong, I’d rather be in here with ye.”

“This is no laughing matter, Jamie.”

“I’m no’ laughing.” Goodness, did the Doctor really want him to spell it out? He could not bring himself to say it to the Doctor’s face any more clearly. That he would rather be locked up with him than go around freely without him. It sounded simple enough in his head, but to speak it… “It’s going tae work,” he said instead. Best to go for total confidence.

“They need you up there.” The Doctor’s hands were reaching past the bars now, patting at his sides and shoulders, like he was trying to memorise the shape of him before their time was up. “I need you up there. It’s no good both of us being locked up.”

Again, Jamie studied the rust-encrusted bars. It would be so simple if he could just push his way through them. Then the Doctor would have no choice but to escape with him, to take his hand and run. There would be none of this worrying over whether or not it was the right thing to do. “Ben an’ Polly will be fine up there,” he said. “They’ll get us both out if things go wrong.”

“ _Jamie_ ,” the Doctor said again, this time with more weary affection than exasperation. “You are one of the most infuriatingly stubborn people that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“I’m hardly more stubborn than ye yourself.”

“Maybe so.” Leaning forward, the Doctor pressed his forehead between the bars, and Jamie hesitated. So much or so little could be contained within the simple gesture. Was it a request for him to meet the Doctor in the middle, or just tiredness? Was it wishful thinking making him wonder whether the Doctor was asking for some sort of contact? It must be the prison, he thought, making him think such things. Here, below the city, with only the quiet and the cold for company, it seemed so easy to lean forward, like they would forget about it when things returned to normal.

He dipped his head forward – hesitated – then shifted forwards properly to sit up a little higher and rest his forehead against the Doctor’s. Their faces were close enough that their noses bumped together, and he closed his eyes, unable to bear the possibility of catching a glimpse of the Doctor’s expression. But he had not moved away, he told himself, which had to count for something. The Doctor’s hands were still on his shoulders, and he reached up in return, half-cupping the Doctor’s cheek in his palm.

A knock at the door made him jerk backwards, throwing himself away from the bars with such vigour that he almost toppled over backwards. The jailer was standing at the top of the stairs, rattling the keys at him. “Come on, I don’t have all day.”

“I’m comin’.” Dragging himself upright, Jamie took the Doctor’s hands as he went, pulling him to his feet too. “It’s gonnae be alright,” he said softly.

“I wasn’t worried.”

“Aye, well.” Something funny had settled in his stomach. Embarrassment at thinking the Doctor might be worried, maybe – or trepidation at the thought that the Doctor had such confidence in him to be unworried. “Good. I’ll send word when – ye know – when it’s time.”

Lifting Jamie’s hands towards his mouth, the Doctor pressed his face against the backs of them. His lips brushed over his knuckles, and Jamie froze, his heart thrown out of his chest and into his throat. The Doctor either knew exactly what he had just done, or had no idea – and he could not decide which of the two options would be worse. But now, of all times, he could not dwell on it. The jailer was still rattling the keys, and the Doctor had stood back to look at him expectantly, and Ben and Polly would be waiting for him above, and staging a rebellion was absolutely _not_ the right time to think about such things. Maybe later, if – _when_ – he had broken the Doctor out of his cell, he could think about it. Or maybe there would be no need to think at all, just time to hug the Doctor and feel the all-encompassing simplicity of being with him. It would not matter, if he managed to get the Doctor free. What the Doctor thought of him and how he thought about the Doctor and where they might be taking themselves. None of that would matter.

Reluctantly, he dragged his hands away. “I’ll see ye soon, aye?”

“Yes.” The Doctor folded his hands over his chest, his eyes gleaming. “Soon.”


End file.
